


Into the Flames

by Yunos



Category: Diabolik Lovers
Genre: Castle AU, M/M, Smut, Whipping, everyone else is side charas, shu and yuma r the main charas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-26
Updated: 2016-07-26
Packaged: 2018-07-27 00:15:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7595803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yunos/pseuds/Yunos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fate draws Yuma and Shu together after what seems like eons of seperation, and the result is more passionate and fiery than the inferno that burned down Edgar's village.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter one

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone!! This is my first attempt at a detailed chapter fic in a long time, and I don't know how great of a job I've done regarding characterization and all, so you're welcome to stop by and tell me! I want to improve my writing as I write more fics, especially ones like these.
> 
> Hope you enjoy it!

 

 

 

From the beginning, Yuma had very little.

For a man like him, money was toiled through sweat and blood and life was a competition, more to he and his fellow haggard brethren than those situated on the more comfortable castes of the hierarchy. His tiny farm which he and his family shared was all they had to bolster their lives, and every season they prayed that the fields would yield rich spoils from which they would be able to prosper for however long their scarce earnings lasted.

It was a hard life, but Yuma hardly cared. He was thankful for the raggedy clothes on his chest, he was proud of the farm he worked on (no matter how run down it seemed) and he was happy with the family he had.

And what an odd family it was.

His kin were not bound by blood, but by familial relationship. There were four of them —— Ruki being the one recognized as the head of the family and oft fondly received as the “Dad”, while Kou and Azusa were just regarded as brothers —— and they were a scraggly group of escapees from the worn down slums, surviving on pickpocketing and stale bread left by nearby bakeries until they were old enough to be hired, and from there, collected savings until they were able to start a farm of their own. It was tiny, it was rickety, but it was what they worked for and Yuma was proud to call it home.

Yuma was a peculiar case amongst the four —— he had no memory of his past beyond the virulent slums and countless nights of an empty stomach. The only thing hinting to a past beyond that past was the burn marks on his shoulder, but it was no enigma that he would bother with. He was happy with what he had, and for him, that was enough.

And yet, enough was something that seemed to escape him that fateful year, where a treacherous drought faced them and seemed to evaporate everything that was holding their lives together along with the water for the crops.

Yuma hissed between his teeth as he fingered yet another yellow plant, its leaves bereft of its former succulence and snapping easily between the rough grip of his hand. The drought was not clement to them —— it had parched the earth and whipped up dust into his eyes, and whereas it shrunk water storages, market prices for crops grew steadily as more wells were dried and the drought became fiercer. His helplessness infuriated him to no end, the flame in his gut as hot as the sun that blighted the earth and took everything he had, the little he had, and just as he thought he was getting somewhere, his future suddenly evaporated before his eyes.

His teeth gnashed and his arms trembled, muscles pulsating angrily in his arm and wanting to do something as he held the basket of dwindling harvest ; their crops had used up their final vestiges of life to bring them a fruitless, dried up crop, and they were now dependent on selling their belongings and stored fruit. He had to give up everything now, and it made him feel like everything he fought for was for naught. His rage burned, apparent even as he stormed into the market and slammed the goods down, frightening some nearby girls, but that was alright with him —— he was in no mood to flirt today. His blood pressure only rose as he saw a blonde man in a fashionable (and to him, unaffordable) getup with a slack look on his face, rummaging through everyone’s goods and stacking upon the pile a weary servant was carrying.

Yuma gaped at the sheer quantity of the pile. That must cost a royalty! Though of course, any entitled aristocrat seemed to be able to afford anything no matter how expensive it was. As Yuma peered closer, he recognized a symbol on the back of his vest, gilding the cloth with an intricate crest of what seemed to be a dagger.

The Sakamaki crest.

Yuma rarely spotted any royalty around the areas he frequented, but when he did, he immediately knew he despised them. They were able to make what seemed to be beyond a lifetime of Yuma’s hard work, and the riches they flaunted constantly dwarfed the little Yuma had. It made his blood boil, how they were able to obtain everything with such little effort and yet still expect more from people like him, who had nothing.

He didn't realize he was staring at the man until he walked over, languid blue eyes meeting Yuma’s own burning ones. The prince surveyed what Yuma was selling, and disdain veiled his mask of apathy.

“Is this all?”

Yuma seethed. Of course it was —— it was all he had, he was clearly a poor farmer who probably going to lose even the clothes on his back. He snarled at the other, spitting directly at his face.

“If you don't want anything, then just move on, you damn Neet!”

He almost regretted the words as soon as two guards lurched forth, raising their lances, and with a sinking heart and an ever - present feeling of loathing he realized he could be arrested for his insolence. To his surprise though, the prince lifted his hand, signaling the guards to lower their weapons.

“Watch your tongue. Be grateful that I’m even buying anything from your pitiful little collection anyways.” He seemed slightly annoyed, blonde curls draping over an impassive but imperial gaze. Yuma felt himself trepidating at the feeling of being regarded as a gnat, and hissed the price through gritted teeth, accepting the cash with a clenched jaw. His gaze burned into the back of the prince before he disappeared behind several armed guards, imagining his stare scorching his unworked, soft flesh behind his gaudy vest, twisting it and mutilating it into undesirable burns.

Whoever this prince was, he decided he hated him the most.

 

  
It was exhausting, being a prince.

Of course, since Shu felt exhausted by everything nowadays, that went without saying —— but he was tired of it. His ears buzzed from the trumpets positioned so closely to his ears, and he felt his lethargy steepen as a few girls walking around the courthouse attempted to seduce him with syrupy words and empty praise. There was no doubt that he would be given a lot of trouble ; he was the eldest and thus the most recognized of his siblings, not to mention he looked stunning, his golden hair sun kissed and his features fair and chiseled. He was dashing, no doubt, but he would've traded it anyday to be able to sleep for a good year or two.

Ever since his best friend passed away, Shu felt numb. Edgar was a village child, a peasant —— someone who shouldn't have had any business with a royal child such as he, and yet as he grew more and more encumbered with his responsibilities, Edgar was extremely relieving to him, his jubilant smiles and ultimately different, non - pampering treatment towards him a welcomed reprieve. It turned out, however, that the burden he once had was shoved on Edgar and as a result, he had crashed down in flames along with his home and had been dead ever since. Pathetic, it was, how the grief from long ago still cut into him, a knife freshly sharpened by his newfound loneliness and cutting into him regularly.

“Oh my, is the prodigal prince dawdling?” A telltale sing song voice cut through his thoughts and Shu turned around to see Laito, one of his brothers and one of the six Sakamaki princes. Laito was the most flamboyant of all of them : his auburn hair lengthened and curling by his neck, with a lovely green garb draped on his body and fine boots, all complete with viridescent eyes and a cloying, seductive smile : a getup that fell apart as he dove into sleaze and sex with daylight’s departure. “You know you’re not going to get anything done standing around and rotting here! We all have busy schedules, you know? Especially during night.” He added, lust dripping slightly from his tone.

Shu felt a migraine forming in the back of his head, and made no attempt to make his disgust less apparent in his tone. “I don't feel bothered to deal with any responsibilities. Reiji can do it for me —— he seems eager to do work seeing that he’s so quick to denounce me for not doing mine.”

“But that's not good for you! How will the masses react when they find out the heir to the throne is just a boring good-for-nothing?” Shu felt himself cringe inwardly at the mention of Reiji’s favorite insult.

“I don't really care. They can think what they want. What I choose to do will be at my own discretion.”

“Man, you’re hard to get at.” Laito whined, and Shu felt relieved that he decided to give up so easily. He watched from his peripheral vision as Laito started to walk away, throwing some words over his shoulder.

“By the way, the countess said we’re short on servants, so we might hire some new ones soon! I hope they're some cute girls, nfu~”

Shu sighed. First the big ordeal with that one tall guy at the market, and now more people brought to the castle to gawk at him. In that moment, Shu found that he was not tired of his responsibilities, but people.

 

  
When Ruki called Yuma over to the back of their cabin for a talk, Yuma knew it was bad news. And yet, with everything that happened concerning their farm lives as of late, Yuma wasn't very surprised.

He waded through the overgrown field, hissing in pain as the sharp, dried stalks scathed his skin and padded over to where Ruki was, who had been rapping his nails against a barrel and had a worried look on his face. Ruki was a very stoic character —— it took a lot to perturbe him like this, and seeing him like this made the taller man feel unnerved.

Ruki was someone he respected as a leader as well as a brother, and despite Yuma’s wild and seemingly unchainable mannerisms, he was always tame before Ruki. He had sharp features and black hair, and he was dashing despite how unkempt he looked. Perhaps he could have been mistaken as a prince should he have been set in that image more properly, which was no surprise seeing that Ruki was formerly an aristocrat himself who had been resigned to the slums as well, after having everything stolen away from him. He was cold, diligent, cerebral — everything that Yuma found was leaderlike and thus was worthy of his loyalty, and seeing that Kou and Azusa rarely deviated from his orders, it seemed they agreed with him.

In short, Ruki was the glue that held them together, and aptly so —— he was strong willed and often unyielding despite all the trials he’d come to face. So seeing him like this put him off greatly, no matter how small of a crack it was in his mask.

“Yuma.” Ruki’s voice snapped him from his thoughts and to attention, a fistful of dried weeds in his hands. “You are aware of the toll this drought is taking on us, correct?”

Yuma nodded. “Our stock is running low, and it doesn't seem like a good rainstorm is coming in anytime soon. But maybe we can negotiate with the landlord ——”

“Don't be a fool. You know the landlord won't be clement with us, we’ve already staved our payment long enough. Besides, even if that worked out, what then? We’re still stuck in the same situation we’re in now. No progress will have been made.” The smaller male stared at the ground in frustration, and he opened his hand to reveal Yuma’s measly earnings. “How long, Yuma, how long can we live on this?”

“Fuck off! I know, I know, but..” Yuma bit his lip, his fist punching against the wall, but this time there was no scolding from Ruki to take better care of their property. The tension was dire enough. “We can't give up this farm! This is our lifestyle! We worked so hard for this!”

Ruki’s voice was dangerously soft. “But it's not enough. You've known this because now we’re sleeping on empty stomachs again just like we were in the slums. Our belongings are dwindling away, and if nothing changes, we’ll have nothing.”

“So?!? This is ——”

“This isn't worth working towards anymore, Yuma. We aren't getting anywhere with this farm anymore, no matter how unwilling you are to accept it. I know how much happiness and memories you’ve had in this place, but if you can't move on then the others and I will go on without you.”

Yuma took an unsteady breath, trying to calm himself down. “Then what do you suggest we do?”

“We’ll become servants under the Sakamakis.”

The taller man finds himself gaping, his memory whirling back to the image of the man he met earlier, impervious features polished and impassive to Yuma’s petulance. As much as he needs the job, he finds himself in denial, loathing the image of him polishing his shoes and pampering aristocrats, people who have been pampered all their lives and live with leisure and yet still need so much service, as if they aren't already satisfied with everything they had that Yuma could never obtain.

Ruki knows his proposal isn't agreeable to Yuma by the look of his face, and sighs, brows knitting. “I’ve already gone over and secured a spot for us and convinced them with my skill, just so you know, though the competition wasn't that bad considering the wages are low. You do know now why I sent you to sell our stock instead of doing it myself these past few days?”

Yuma wants to curse. He never realized, and feels idiotic about how oblivious he had been to the whole thing. He had passed the whole ordeal as Ruki just wanting to take a break for a bit and handing the job over to Yuma until he recovered.

“I've already made all the arrangements. We’ll leave tomorrow, as soon as the sun rises.” Ruki turns to leave, not giving Yuma any chances to retort, and Yuma stares after him, his jaw slackening as he realizes that Ruki must have planned ahead so that Yuma wouldn't be able to protest and stop anything he did.

Of course he would. Cheeky motherfucker.

 


	2. Chapter two

 

 

 

  
There's a certain way in how it lifts him from his worries and lets him float, with deep resonating tunes dancing, dulcet to the ear and giving him a sense of solace in a world where everything seems to make his shoulders feel heavier. The performance ends and Shu feels satisfied enough to applaud, and takes his leave with haste and a sense of levity which lingers even with the daily exasperations of his brothers, swooning maidens, and the exhausting (and rather annoying) pampering.

When he gets back, Laito is there to meet him and whines about the new servants and sulks, _The new ones aren't pretty ladies like I wanted_ , to which Shu scoffs _What did you expect_ , pretty ladies are far too fragile for the treacheries of being a servant. When he goes to see the countess and ask about the new servants, however, he’s surprised to see the man who challenged him the other day.

He’s currently gawking at a painting, it seemed, brown eyes widened with wonder behind long brown curls tied messily into a bun. His muscles ripple powerfully underneath the servant clothes, an anatomical masterpiece compared to his dumbfounded, slack jawed face. He looks just as dumb as Edgar, Shu finds himself musing fondly before he realizes what registered through his brain and sours his mood.

His chagrin deepens as the man notices him staring, and although he says nothing, his eyes explain it all, his animosity just as intense as the flames that laid claim to his friend’s life.

This wasn't going to be fun.

Three more join him, none of them looking nearly as hostile but still filled with wariness as they bow before him and honor him with “Your Highness”. The countess rambles on about how honored she and her lesser companions are to be in his presence, but Shu hardly listens, his gaze fixed on Yuma. Evidently with his head down and eyes lowered respectfully on the floor he cannot meet his gaze, but had he not been forced to display his respect like that, Shu knew full well he would have stared back.

They're about to depart when Shu recalls her, eyes still nailed on Yuma’s figure. The man reminded him of Edgar, but he was also amusing to deal with. His defiance was a lovely change of pace compared to the empty love showered on him daily, and Shu figures that he may as well indulge while he can, turning his gaze back to the woman before him.

“That one.” He directs a gloved finger at Yuma, voice bland. “I would like him as my personal servant.”

 

 

The moment Shu says the words, Yuma’s pride feels belittled. He’s being traded over as property, and the realization of it starts a fire in his gut that begins to whirl into an inferno, threatening to explode out of himself and riot against every single snarky aristocrat in this goddamn castle. In this very moment, Yuma hates Shu more than he hated anyone, and seethes quietly with his eyes fixtated on the floor and his fists clenched at the hem of his shirt. He _despises_  that he will have to recognize the authority of this man, and pamper him and respect him the same way the predecessing servants have.

Pampering him would be a challenge, but he could grit his teeth and get through it. Respect, on the other hand, was a penance Yuma couldn't seem to overcome. He knows he will never truly heed someone who has everything at their disposal when others suffer to get the bare minimum for necessities, and he knows no matter how many fake smiles he’d have to wear and kind words he’d have to force out, he will never truly be loyal to Shu the same way he is loyal to his brothers, to Kou and Azusa and Ruki.

The countess tells him to follow Shu and meet his demands properly, which he nods to and trails his prince, tempted to walk faster so his dirty servant boots scrape the back of Shu’s pristine, beautiful ankles and ruin the high quality leather on his boots. When the blonde leads him to his room though, his anger is momentarily forgotten as he took in the sight of the room, full of breathtakingly beautiful decor in different shades of blue and gold. Truly, a room fit for a prince.

“Are you done dawdling?” Shu’s voice snaps him out of his trance and he finds lazy blue eyes meeting his own, judging him. Yuma makes a mental note to stop gawking, and almost forgets to be gracious as he apologizes lowly, brows knitting on his bowed head. Surprise takes him though, as Shu’s hand fits under his chin and forcefully jerks his head up, making his muscle ache under the other’s firm grip ; even more so as his jaw clenched in silent fury.

“You don't need to fake anything.” Shu’s voice is a murmur, low and soft, but more amused than reassuring. “You are here to serve me, not to be sycophantic. If I’m going to have you lick my boots, I might as well not have you be a fake asshole while you’re at it.”

At least he’s honest, Yuma muses, stubbornly remaining silent as Shu let go of his face and sat in a chair (a wonderfully brown chair, with beautiful carpentry —— _no Yuma_ , he scolds himself, _you already went over this, you idiot_ ) looking smugly at him as he removed his gloves and set them on the table, propping his face with a hand. Yuma chooses to sit down on his bed, and without care, the mattress sinking under his weight and the sheets being pulled down, ruining the once impeccable bed. If Shu insists that he be himself, he may as well be at leisure.

Unfortunately, there's much less of a reaction than Yuma wanted. Shu just blinks lazily, surveying the ever so slightly muddled bedsheet.

“You know you’ll have to fix that later, right? Give your Neet a comfortable place to rest.” He jests. Yuma mistakes it for mockery.

“You just watch your back, your Highness” Yuma laughs harshly, and gets up to collect cleaning supplies from the servant’s quarters without Shu’s dismissal, who doesn't seem to care in the slightest at this gesture of disrespect. He only watches blankly as Yuma leaves, his gaze faraway and his expression slightly sorrowful as a name leaves his lips, reminiscence falling from his tongue like snow.

“Edgar..”

 

  
When Yuma reaches the quarters, his companions are already waiting for him, chatting around mouthfuls of sweet rice pudding.

“Hey, Yuma!” Kou waves his spoon at him enthusiastically, words muffled by the food in his mouth. The brunet could hear Ruki scolding Kou for his indecency, and snorted, putting aside the tools in favor of sitting with his family. He settled down besides Azusa, who was eating rather quickly for how slowly he talked.

“How's it for you guys?”

“We haven't been assigned anything yet, so we’re just waiting for orders. What about you? How did it go?” Ruki inquires modestly, in contrast to Kou who snidely but quietly adds, “What did it feel like, to be honored by his Highness’ presence?” Yuma waves them both off.

“He’s a dick.” Yuma says, immediately and a bit too loudly. Thankfully, no one else was here to hear him other than his brothers.

“That's for sure! Ne ne, what's he like?”

“Ah, he’s…” Yuma knits his brows in thought. “A goddamn prick. It's so annoying, how finely he’s dressed. He’s always got that weird look in his eyes, and his hair is so golden and pretty that I want to smash it against the wall. He's just — too perfect. It pisses me off.”

“Yuma-san is…. paying a lot of attention to… the prince.” Azusa manages slowly, and Yuma isn't sure if his younger brother is teasing him with how monotone he sounds, but he’s forgotten as Kou pounces at the opportunity, eyes narrowing slyly.

“Yuma-kun, why are you so interested in him? Are you sure you don't like him~?”

Normally, Yuma shouldn't be fazed by this. It's a taunt, and he knows, he knows and he shouldn't be this perturbed, his face flushed and lips spluttering for something sensible. He feels embarrassed because somehow he feels Kou’s words are true, at least not in the way he thinks, although Kou wouldn't know that and that frustrates him. He hates Shu, abhors him and his wealthy brethren, but he has been paying an awful lot of attention to him, especially since he’s only seen him for such a short amount of time.

“Kou, i’m not —— gah, _fuck off!_  I’m not —”

“Are you suuuuure?” Kou cuts in, deriving his amusement from Yuma’s growing chagrin. “People don't normally notice pretty blonde hair or weird looks in their eyes, at least normal people wouldn't have described it like that! Maybe there's something building here! Ah, young love!” Kou sighs, sounding wistful. “Seeing it in action makes me feel so old!”

“ _Fuck off!_ ” Yuma is red with rage and storms off, collecting the tools he needs and throwing himself up the stairs. He’s not in love and he knows this, but he doesn't know how to explain, and he’s sure Kou wouldn't listen even if he could. He heads off to Shu’s room, invigorated by his wrath, and Ruki sighs as he leaves.

“What a tool.” Kou snickers when he’s gone, and yelps as Ruki smacks the back of his head and Azusa watches wistfully, wishing he could be punished the same way.

 

  
Almost all of Shu’s siblings gave him migraines. Reiji, on the other hand, gave him recollections of childhood angst and memories of which he’d prefer not to remember.

Unlike the other brothers, who were half-brothers, Reiji is aligned fully with his blood and is thus the closest to him regarding relation. He was a dilligent man, strict and acerbic, tackling responsibilities head on and never wasting a second until the job was done. In other words, he was the dichotomy of Shu, who staved work and preferred naps over any task he was given. Reiji despised him for this, denounced him for being regarded as a prodigy when he was hardly fit to be one, abhorred him for being the eldest and the most loved when Reiji was so much more deserving of it than him. Any love for Shu which Reiji may have developed was now dead, killed off by the vendetta that rose with the flames that took Edgar’s life and scorched his vow to ruin Shu’s life deep into the earth, with his hatred raging ever since, still bright and burning unlike the firestorm that peetered out long ago.

“I hear you’ve taken a liking to a servant and had the audacity to claim him as your own. It astonishes me, how quick you are to claim things you are undeserving of and still believe you are higher.” Reiji’s voice is deep and velvety, but his animosity is unbridled and so potent that it makes even Shu wince, who says nothing and retains a cold, quiet mien.

Reiji sneers at this sign of weakness. “Miserable wretch. One day you’ll have everything taken away from you, and the masses will believe you wicked. Perhaps it's time you take action, before you lose to the flames once more.”

Shu feels himself freeze. So he wasn't the only one who noticed the similarities between the new servant and his childhood friend. An ancient fear settles him, and his tone slowly becomes dangerous. “You wouldn't.”

“You believe me weak, you degenerate.” Reiji quips back, disappearing into the darkness and leaving Shu to dwell on his own thoughts. Shu only sighs, lets the familiar sense of premonition and stares at the moon, feeling defeated. He’s too used to letting Reiji destroy everything he has, and every time he feels too hopeless to fight against him.

But this time, he feels a strange sensation tugging at his heart, and he finds that he wants to protect what is his, and this time, he doesn't want to lose to Reiji again.


	3. Chapter three

 

 

 

  
Over the course of a month, Yuma finds out a lot about Shu, which is definitely a lot more than he’d prefer to know.

One thing he finds is that Shu is an avid fan of music, when he dares to peek into Shu’s room without permission (this is a norm for him, but with all the harsh training on respect Ruki gave to him before, sometimes doing this gives him a feeling of dread, as if he expects his eldest brother to pop up and smack him) and finds himself lured in by the melody Shu creates with different fanciful instruments, swayed by the intricacies of quick - paced agitatōs and impactful, rueful lamentōs. With how boyish and rowdy he seemed, perhaps many would have expected him to favor the dramatic and glorious pieces, but he finds that his favorite is one of the saddest songs he’s ever heard, his heartstrings pulled with emotion - filled notes and the compassionate but sorrowful ways Shu pulls the strings. He asks for the name of the song, and Shu tells him it is an original piece, an elegy for a boy named Edgar. The name catches with Yuma for some reason and his interest is piqued, but something about the way Shu looks tells him not to prod further.

Another thing Yuma finds, is that Shu is deathly afraid of fire. The room had been dark once and the prince was attempting to read a scripture, and in attempt to aid him the servant had lit several candles around Shu’s desk, and was surprised as Shu frantically blew them out and whimsically decided he wanted to stop reading. He called the blonde’s name and several other things to no avail until Shu tells him in a low voice that he dislikes fire, and dismisses him for the rest of the day. Yuma finds his mannerisms odd, but again respects Shu and leaves him be.

On that same day, Yuma learns of his brothers, when the head servant decides he should not be relieved of his duties just yet and sends him to tend to the other princes. Ayato is the most hedonistic of the six, inflated by pride which in turn builds him a self - flattered ego, and he is almost the most disrespectful to Yuma, truly treating him as a servant and forcing him to regard him with the highest titles, to which the tall servant complies with gritted teeth and veins popping. The one who bests Ayato at being bratty, is Kanato, a morbid young man who has the widest, emptiest eyes Yuma has ever stared into and is strangely obsessed with a teddy bear aptly named Teddy. Teddy seems to be the only person (or stuffed bear for that matter) who can get in Kanato’s good graces, as Yuma grumpily works despite the prince’s caterwauls, who immediately screams at him the moment he makes a mistake or misses a spot. The others don't seem to be any better —— Laito gets on his nerves and flaunts his lack of fashion sense with horrid clothing that makes Yuma gouge his eyes out, and Subaru punches him and yells at him to shut up every time he attempts to ask him something. For some reason though, Reiji disturbs Yuma the most, the way he makes concoctions and stares at Yuma as he works and condescends over him in such a way that Yuma feels belittled but feels more unsettled than angry makes him avoidant of his room, and he only stops there if he is ordered to.

Despite all that and Yuma’s slowly dwindling animosity, he’s closer to Shu than he ever wants to be, but somehow it doesn't bother him ; this indifference being reasoned as the barrier between he and the prince which sets the disparity between their ranks and thus puts a wall between their interactions, and Yuma is comforted by this. Still, Kou’s teasing continues, and whereas Yuma is now accustomed to it (despite how often he gets flustered), Kou says something that he still ponders now.

“There's a reason why he wanted you to be his personal servant, right?”

In a different context, it's a good question as well as an enigma yet unsolved. Why did Shu choose him? And why so resolutely? Yuma comforts himself by reasoning it was revenge for him spitting in Shu’s face that day they met at the market, and he firmly resolves that Shu and Yuma are close, but only in knowledge. Or so he thought.

On a sunny morning, Shu sets off with himself in tow, his arms occupied with a giant case for one of Shu’s larger instruments. The castle had made renovations for a room to hold all of Shu’s instruments, and the blonde prince directed him as to where to set them, making sure they looked immaculate. Yuma rolled his eyes, thinking he must have loved his music more than he loved himself as he moved back and forth between the castle, snapping at Shu whenever he pointed out how harshly he was setting his instruments down.

On his umpteenth round back to the new room, Yuma hears the sound of a whip crack and Ruki grunting in pain. It could have been his protective instincts which were to blame on his sudden lack of respect or how comfortable he had gotten with Shu, but he burst into the room immediately, eyes widening as he was registering what was happening.

Ruki’s servant shirt was in tatters, his skin pulsating an angry red beneath with blood streaming down from opened cuts. He was breathing harshly, propped up on his knees and arms with his head bowed down before Reiji, who was tapping his whip lightly against the palm of his hand and looking furious, his foot tapping besides a steaming, spilled concoction. The moment he registered Yuma’s presence, his face darkened with anger.

“Did you come here to get whipped as well?”

“You _bitch!_ ” Yuma spits, and Reiji recoils, taken aback by the servant’s insolence. Yuma stands between both of them, looming over the spectacled prince. “You– you whipped Ruki! I won't forgive you, you arrogant Neet!”

“He’s being punished for destroying my concoction” Reiji says softly. Behind him, Ruki mutters something that sounds like It was an accident and Yuma please don't— but Yuma hardly hears him as Reiji’s face twists maliciously and he continues.

“You should talk about arrogance, you imbecile. Know your place lest you feel my whip, mongrel.” The whip cracks in his hand and Yuma loses it, letting his fist fly right into Reiji’s face.

Reiji goes flying, crashing into his concoctions and creating even more of a mess than there was originally. His handsome face is ruined by the angry swelling on his cheek, gossamer raven locks skewed all over his ruined complexion, and Yuma feels proud of himself until he realizes other people heard the collision and he may have gotten Ruki into deeper trouble than he originally had been in. Oh.

Luckily Shu arrives before the guards do and orders them back before they can lunge forth and arrest Yuma, and surveys the damage before him, his gaze sweeping from Ruki on the floor to a seething Yuma, to an injured Reiji lying on top of a shattered shelf holding broken concoctions. He sighs, brows knitted in exasperation.

“You ought to be more strict with your _servant_ here, Shu.” Reiji is fuming, spitting blood as he speaks and glares at Yuma sharply. Yuma meets his gaze with a similar intensity, and Ruki is silent, but his eyes are wide and desperate at Yuma who seems too distracted by his stare down to notice.

“I’ll handle him.”

“What about the other one?” Ruki bows his head almost immediately, but his lips are pressed in a hard grimace. Shu feels pity, but alas, he is already pressing his luck with how he favors Yuma, and it would be a hassle if he appeared weak in this very moment, which he knows Reiji will endlessly exploit and Shu doesn't appreciate that, especially not in front of all these guards. If he is to save one, he must forgo the other.

“Detain him.”

He feels Yuma’s stare on him, sees his jaw dropping from his peripherals, but he only stares at Ruki coldly as he watches the guards take him away, as well as some others who surge forth and immediately rush Reiji to the clinic, who regards Yuma mordantly until he cannot see him anymore. Yuma just stares, rage building, face flushed with anger until it brims and boils and his body, as big and strong as it is, can't contain it anymore.

He explodes, a Molotov Cocktail going off right in Shu’s face, spitting wrath like shrapnel.

“What the fuck was that?! Why’d the fuck did you choose to save me and punish Ruki —— he wasn't even to blame! I was the fucking idiot who let my anger get to the best of me, I should be the one punished! Why the fuck —”

“Because life isn't fair.” Shu interrupts, turning away. “Because there's no honor or justice in this crest, and you shouldn't have expected any.”

“ _Honor?_ You wanna talk about honor?” Yuma splutters, grabbing Shu’s arm and yanking him roughly so that he was facing him again. “You wanna talk about _justice_? I definitely don't see an ounce of it in you, you stupid, pathetic, entitled Neet. You saved me because you like me for some reason, you liked me enough somehow to make me your personal servant and now you’re selfishly holding me hostage like this because you think you own me or something, like I’m some kind of tool you can use and throw away when you’re done. I’m not, and you can't pull this honor dishonor bullshit on me.”

“Edgar..”

“My name is Yuma. I don't know who this Edgar is but I’m not him, and if you’ve been keeping me because you think I’m him, you’re mistaken. I’m tired of being your coping method, and _I'm so fucking tired_  of having you selfishly keeping me to yourself!”

Shu doesn't answer, and he expects Yuma to hit him and snarl at him, but instead Yuma laughs, and Shu winces at how icy it is, how the sheer hatred behind it sends a shiver down his spine.

“I thought you were different.” Yuma spits bitterly. “I thought I knew you, I thought that compared to your brothers you were better, you were decent, but you’re just as low and pathetic as them. I’m sorry for even thinking we could have been friends.” With that, the taller male stalks out of the room.

It turns out that Yuma didn't even need to physically hit Shu, because his words are just as hard of a blow. He had been denounced and stomped on all his life by Reiji, he was mentally steeled by everything he had been through and he should have been numb to this, but he wasn't. The feeling of sorrow is crushing, Edgar— Yuma’s candor heavy on his shoulders, heavier than anything he’s ever tried to carry. With a cold feeling in his gut, he realizes he’s in love with Yuma at the worst time possible, images of his cherished servant blurring through his head. Images of Yuma teasing Shu, Yuma arguing with him, Yuma bantering with him —— _Yuma Yuma Yuma_. The tall male had been Shu’s everyday solace in his busy life, had been his reprieve from all the mushy comments and superficial flirting, and Shu didn't even need Reiji to lose him this time.

With a sharp cry of defeat, Shu falls to his knees, devastated. For the first time in ages, Shu truly comes to terms with how horrible he has been, how he could never face the music when it was dire. Yuma was right, Shu muses miserably —— he’s despicable.


	4. Chapter four

 

 

 

  
The day after the events prior, Yuma is still Shu’s servant and Shu still busies him with the norm : dusting off the cabinets, remaking the bed, laundry work. The difference is, there is no more friendly banter, no more teasing, no more lighthearted jests. Now, there is only assertion and a painful distance between them, cultivated by limited interaction that asserts the boundaries between them as prince and peasant and nothing more.

Yuma thinks back to what he said about Edgar the other day, how he had heard Shu say the name and pondered who Edgar could be, how easily it had slipped off his tongue on the middle of his rage and how Shu had reacted to it, his lips pursed and his eyes sad, a faraway look swimming in the ocean blue of his eyne. The whole thing he had said was mostly a whim ; he didn't know why he said it or why it even occurred to him at the time, but he did and it hurt Shu and that was all that mattered. It was so satisfying, putting a dent in his steeled look, but now Yuma was curious about Edgar and just exactly what he meant to Shu, to be able to injure Shu’s resolve like that.

He wants to ask him about Edgar, but unfortunately, pride and petty grudges come before any mystery, and besides, Shu refuses to start anything with him again, cutting off any attempt to pick up something and walking away and leaving Yuma peeved. He also still hasn't forgiven Shu for what he did to Ruki and how he made him suffer for what Yuma did, and the tall male sometimes ponders if Ruki is alright, and what kind of hellscape did Shu forsake him to.

When his brothers found out about what happened to their cherished leader, they were just as shocked as he had been, shaking their heads in disbelief and muttering about how shitty the system was in the castle, and Yuma couldn't agree less, though the feeling of guilt still weighed on him like a boulder whenever they sat down to eat and that empty spot was there besides them, where Ruki would look over them and chide Kou and treat Azusa’s wounds. He could only imagine why Shu gave him such a hard punishment ; most likely as compensation for Reiji’s wounds and Yuma being spared. Whatever the reason was, Yuma despised Shu now, and this resentment sometimes made Yuma’s work in the castle harder than it had been in the farm.

But what kept him around other than the need for some kind of economical stability was his curiosity about Edgar. Whenever Shu thought Yuma wasn't around, he’d play that mournful piece for Edgar and Yuma would listen, poised behind the door. He’d talk to his brothers about it —— or try to, as Azusa simply grew quiet and Kou scoffed as if he was disinterested, whining whenever the name was brought up.

“Mou, Yuma-kun, that's all you ever talk about any more! None of us know anything, so instead of constantly ranting about it like that’ll do anything but make our ears bleed, go and try and dig for some information yourself!”

So that's exactly what Yuma does. He takes longer cleaning up in Shu’s room, poking around as discreetly as he can as he steals peeks in nooks and crannies behind the disposition of his feather duster, until he eventually gets so bold that he starts thrusting his face into his closet and chests. The most he finds : an old scribble of what seems to be two boys in charcoal, which seems impressively detailed for the age of the artist entailed behind it. The coal has smeared on the papyrus and the drawing seems aged, making the lines a bit hard to make out, but he recognizes that one boy has fluffy hair ( which he presumes is Shu ) and a wide grin, which the other boy mirrors, his hair tied in a messy bun. Some words are scrawled down in messy writing: Shu and Edgar, which confirms his suspicions that Shu is indeed affiliated with the case somehow.

A day later, he dares to ask Shu about it once. The man had been eating an apple, big and ripe (but not as good as the apples on their farm, Yuma thinks to himself proudly), and Yuma had burst out with “Shu, who is Edgar?” Shu had looked at him in surprise at first before it vanished behind a mask of apathy, as he tossed Yuma the unfinished fruit and a “You don't need to worry about it” behind his shoulder, walking out without missing a beat and leaving Yuma disappointed.

Almost everyone in the servant’s quarters knew about Yuma’s curiosity about Edgar —— which is mostly Yuma’s fault, he admits to himself, he has been too loud about it and he has trusted his thoughts with the wrong person, Kou, who is a loudmouth —— and most try to disspell his ambitions with _You shouldn't be poking around in other people's business_  and _Why not quit now? It's futile to chase after something you may never reach_ , all to which Yuma responds with a glare and harsh retorts, intimidating people out of asking him again.

But all in all, Yuma finds he has hardly made any progress. He wants to give up and leave the situation as it is, but his interest is renewed as one day a tall stranger stops at his table where he sits, all alone in the desolate quarters, head propped on his hand and face darkened. He can hardly recognize who it is behind that ragged cloak, but from what he can see, it doesn't look like anyone he recognizes. Underneath the hood, he sees a pale face and long silver tresses, finely touseled around a wiry but sly smile. He plops a book before him, and before Yuma can yell at him and ask who the hell he is, the stranger simply leaves, uttering only one word.

_Edgar._

Yuma is shocked and tries to chase the stranger, to see just who he is and what he knows about Edgar, but the person had disappeared swiftly, leaving Yuma only with the leatherbound book. Stunned, Yuma sits down to read, silently thanking Ruki for teaching him how to read despite his insistence that he only needed his strength and plant knowledge to survive. The book, to his utmost (but not really) surprise belongs to none other than Shu. He learns that this is a diary, dated back to what Yuma can infer is childhood, because the handwriting is messy and strained as if pen pressure and calligraphy was hardly a concept. As he reads on, he finds that it's definitely about Edgar, and Yuma finds himself prying each page open eagerly, with both fingers and eyes. Almost every page details happiness, and of course, Edgar: which Shu’s pen captures as a boy with long brown hair tied in a messy bun and villager clothes, his smile wide and brown eyes beautiful.

He sounds a lot like me, Yuma muses snarkily, because of course he too has “dazzling brown eyes” and “a big, shiny smile.” But as he reads on, the similarities between he and Edgar become alarmingly apparent to him as he reads on and finds that Edgar loves sweet things, Edgar loves dogs, Edgar loves farming —

Memories Yuma didn't even know he had start dashing back to him. Edgar has strictly religious parents, Edgar complains about how he wants a better life, Edgar doesn't like aristocrats,

Edgar ran into a big fire to try and save his village and never came back.

Yuma’s breathing becomes labored as he recalls a vivid panic and a lurching love for his devout parents who, despite their strictness, were people he cherished deeply and were then people who were endangered by the flames that engulfed the burning rubble he once called home. He remembers calling to Shu, who had looked much more bright - eyed and naive than he did now, telling him that everything will be okay and that he’ll be back soon, as if he were making a trip to the market instead of diving head first into looming, burning death. He remembers, and it rattles him to the bone, whirls him so violently out of reality that he doesn't hear people approach behind him.

“Hey.”

The word throws him back into reality and Yuma spins in his chair to see Azusa and Kou rejoined with Ruki, who looks almost just as badly battered as he did at the slums, but wears a relieved expression on his face, with Kou and Azusa smiling behind him.

“Ruki.. Wh—”

“I know you’re going to ask why I’m here. His Majesty Karlheinz decided a poor servant who made an honest mistake doesn't deserve to be placed with criminals and ne’er do wells, and decided to let me out early.”

Yuma breathes a sigh of relief, but it's quickly suffocated by a feeling of guilt, and suddenly it's hard to meet Ruki’s eyes.

“Shit man… It's good to hear that he let you out early, but it must've been hell in that cell, huh? And you were put in there because I couldn't control myself and let my feelings fly. I’m sorry, Ruki. I’m an idiot.”

“That's for sure.” Ruki agrees dryly, and Yuma feels shame burn in his head, but soon the elder brother’s voice softens with humor. “But I would have been up to take that for any of you if it means that you can punch that man like that in the face again.”

Yuma feels a smile grow on his face, and he laughs, but the gravity of his discoveries on Edgar are not forgotten, and he lifts up the diary for Ruki to see.

“By the way.. while you were gone, I was looking into a guy named Edgar.”

“That's for sure! Damn, he wouldn't shut up about it, always Edgar this and Edgar that! If he continued people would have probably thought this Edgar guy killed his family!” Yuma socks Kou in the head, who continued to laugh. Only Ruki looked solemn, flipping through the pages with amazing speed while somehow still being able to take it all in, looking up with a frown on his face.

“Yuma, this sounds a lot like what you may have been like before you reached the slums. From what I read, the description matches pretty well with you, and the fire can explain the burns on your body.”

Yuma wanted to scream at him. Of course he was Edgar, the details were obvious and he had just recalled his memories, confirming that he was indeed Shu’s long lost best friend. The thing he wanted to know was, what now? What could he do with this information?

“But… how will Yuma-san… use this information..? And.. how will he… bring this up to Shu-san..” Azusa echoes his thoughts, and Yuma sighs. Naturally, there was no easy way around this —— Shu had been avoidant of the topic since day one, and unless he was pried down he’d try to escape the conversation in any way possible. The only way to do it, Yuma figured, was to do it the way he knew how to do it.

“I’ll beat the shit out of him until he talks.” Yuma grins, slapping Azusa on the back.

 

 

The sky dons its night cloak, and dim moonlight wafts through the window of Shu’s room, dimly illuminating the room alongside several candles that flicker as Yuma paces around, impatiently waiting for Shu to return from a party event he’d attended hours ago.

Speak of the devil —— moments later, Shu bursts in, looking wasted despite how clean his appearance looked, his hair combed and looking less bedridden than usual and his formerly regal and now slumped posture clad in a handsomely tailored suit. The moment he walks in, his face scrunches, discomfort evident. “I thought I told you I didn't like candles —”

“Because they remind you of Edgar.” Yuma sneers, and Shu looks taken aback, shocked into speechlessness as Yuma slaps a book in his hand, slamming the door shut behind him. “Whine all you want, Shu. There's no running away from this one.”

“My diary.. I thought I threw this out ages ago. How did you—” This time Shu cuts himself off, shaking his head. “I don't think that hardly matters at this point. You must've figured it out now, huh?”

“It was pretty easy. You’re so messy in your patheticness, hinting vaguely at Edgar every chance you got and running away whenever I got suspicious.” Yuma slams him against the wall, their foreheads pressed together so harshly that Shu winces. But Yuma isn't done.

“You have it so easy, you damn aristocrat, playing with my past like this as if I’m some cheap toy you can throw away and be done with and thinking you can hide behind your twisted justice system whenever I come biting after your ass because I’m lower than you. I'm not going to be nice on you, you mushy, weak Neet, because you think you can cry your way out of facing how you manipulated me.” Yuma grabs Shu’s collar and yanks him off his feet, bringing him up to Yuma’s astonishing height. “Talk. _Now_. Why the fuck did you hide this from me?”

“Because I was afraid I’d hurt you.” Is Shu’s quiet response, and Yuma becomes enraged, throwing Shu against the wall so violently that the candles almost go out from the force exerted. The prince winces, avoiding Yuma’s gaze as his servant snarls in his face.

“You did all this because you were afraid to hurt me?!” Yuma is howling, his face red with rage. “You selfishly kept me by your side while refusing to give me any answers, because you were afraid to hurt me! Don't give me that sappy bullshit, you usually pull better excuses than that out of your ass, you dumb Neet!” He throws a punch at Shu’s chest, and the man takes it without any sign of resistance, making Yuma’s rage and triumph flare and he watches him crumple, but it weakens again as Shu laughs, a sight that seems surreal for how composed and quiet he is.

“I know, Yuma, I’m an asshole who thinks he can do everything by himself and get away with it. But I love you, Yuma. I loved you more than anything, more than just a friend.” His smile dissolves as he chokes back tears, breath beginning to hitch. “I hurt you because I loved you, Yuma — Edgar — I was a fool and thought maybe we could have been happy forever, but I ended up only getting you involved with my personal troubles and getting you and your home targetted. I’m sorry, Yuma, I..” Shu melts into the wall, grief sparkling in his eyes. “I thought I was protecting you by hiding your past from you, as cowardly as it seemed, because you look so happy as you are now — without me. I thought that it would have been better if you hated me like you did, I thought I could detach myself from you and let you move on, but I only fell deeper in love and ended up hurting you again.”

“Damn Neet.” Yuma mutters, but his strength is dissolved, his heart touched by Shu’s sincerity. He wants to be angry, but a part of him believes Shu, wants to trust him again, and he grows conflicted, which puts him in an even worse situation because Yuma was never really good at thinking, so he lets his heart talk, and right now his heart is beating with a conviction Yuma has never felt before. Without thinking, he slams Shu into the wall once more, and the smaller male whimpers, gaze averted, but long fingers force his face towards Yuma and Shu squeezes his eyes shut, only to open them wide once more as he felt lips on his own.

Yuma was kissing him.

He felt his heart melt as he massaged the other’s lips with his own. Yuma’s lips were rough and thick but amazingly plush, crushed against his own and kissing compassionately, swallowing his lips ——

“No,” Shu breathed somehow, when he felt so breathless, pushing Yuma away. “Yuma, I can't hurt you again. I can't be forgiven —”

“Just shut up, Shu. Stop being so selfish and just let me forgive you.”

He doesn't even give Shu a chance to respond, joining their lips together again, and Shu’s voice dies in his throat as their tiers danced around each other, parting   
and joining over and over again and drowning each other in a haze of lust. Yuma’s lips suddenly part, and his tongue flits out, licking against Shu’s lips until his own tongue comes into play and they overlap each other, fighting for dominance. Yuma’s teeth jut out from the folds of his mouth and gently chews on Shu’s bottom lip, eliciting a moan and a grind on his member in revenge, sparking even more heat as their limbs searched each other’s bodies, eagerly mapping out every inch of their unexplored anatomies. They part with strings of saliva as Yuma moves down to Shu’s apparel, which already looks ruffled from the dispute prior and Yuma rips it open hungrily, exposing beautifully carved collarbones from the marble of the effigy known as Shu. He looks absolutely beautiful, Yuma muses, and with eyes dark with lust, he decides he wants him all to himself.

Yuma sucks at Shu’s neck with voracity, teasing with breaths sweeping on his skin and kisses peppered all over before gently biting down with his teeth and sucking, leaving angry red marks. Shu gasps under him, shuddering, and Yuma backs away to look at his work, proudly thinking to himself about how much of a pain it would be to hide them.

But Shu isn't completely dominant, his own virility showing as a hand runs to Yuma’s pants and grips roughly at the large bulge, making Yuma suck in a breath and weakening the strength in his knees, his head spinning and heavy with lust as he feels the hand on the nape of his neck move to his shirt, unbuttoning it with stunning finesse and throwing it aside to reveal his bare torso. Burns mar the smooth skin and twists it into a darker discoloration, and with how perfect and beautiful Shu seems before him he almost feels self conscious, until Shu undoes everything covering his own upper body and reveals that he has scars of his own, cutting across his abdomen in thick lines.

“I do swordplay,” Shu explains breathlessly, and Yuma laughs, breathing against his neck and making him shiver as he creates more marks against Shu’s skin, kissing his scars and feeling his body with tough, calloused hands. Shu sighs dreamily against him, because yes, this is what he wanted, this is how they should have been.

His hands grasp at the hem of Yuma’s pants, and Yuma gasps as they're yanked down, cool air hitting his member from the thin fabric of his underwear. He kicks off his shoes and socks before adding his pants and their shirts to the growing heap of clothing, his gaze raking across his lover as he kisses the bulge through the fabric, making Yuma moan at the sparks evoked from the sensitivity of his aroused member. Eventually the last of the fabric covering him is ripped off, and Yuma’s cock dangles before Shu, hard and long.

Shu gapes. “You’re huge.”

Yuma finds himself flattered, grinning wide with pride. “You’ll be able to handle it with enough lube.”

The prince just sighs, grabbing the hilt and beginning to stroke, his light touches teasing and making Yuma ache painfully, his teeth gritted with frustration.

“Fuck — Shu, stop teasing me.”

Shu just chuckles, his breath hot on his foreskin, and Yuma tightens his muscles as he feels Shu paint saliva up and down the length before stopping at the head, his tongue teasing the slit and making Yuma roll his head back and keen loudly. Shu was just as a master of the instruments as he was playing with him, making him tingle with every touch and arousing him with tempting lips and lovely features, making his head spin without much effort. He gnawed as his lip, feeling his orgasm coil within him as Shu fit his mouth around the head, and pushed him away, panting.

“I’m close. Get the rest of your clothes off.”

Shu complies, removing the rest of his apparel and unveiling his own member, hard with ecstasy and still impressive despite being dwarfed by the sheer size of Yuma’s own. He cleared the bed and sat upon the sheets, and Yuma stood back to admire the curvature of his body, so enticing and yet still so beautifully masculine, his features glowing in the candlelight. He pulled out a bottle of lube from a nearby nightstand, and Yuma slicked his fingers, pressing Shu down against the bed and pushing into his hole.

It was so satisfying, seeing how easily Shu’s imposing mien was undone before him as his finger dug into him, making his head jerk back with his mouth parted and eyes glazed with something sultry. He continued to push, making Shu squirm with pleasure as he introduced the second finger, scissoring into him and making the blush on Shu’s face more and more opaque.

He finally pulled out and watched as Shu relaxed, only to grow meek at the sight of Yuma’s oiled member. He dreaded the pain that would come with its entry, but at the same time he masochistically craved it, almost salivating at the thought. Seeing this, Yuma laughed darkly, looming over Shu with a sadistic grin.

“You might want to find something to hold onto.”

  
The feeling of being penetrated by Yuma was painful but amazing, and Shu had to muffle his screams as the member inside him slowly eased in and out, and the blonde sobbed at how much his width was stretching his walls. Slowly the pace picked up, and Shu grew accustomed to the size, leaning in with every thrust, melting with pleasure as fresh tears followed in the stead of dried ones. Yuma admired how he moved with each roll of his hips, hickeys patchy on the muscle bulging from his neck as his head craned back, beautiful golden tresses draped across widened blue eyes and breath hitching with almost every moan, making even better music than anything Shu could create with his instruments. Shu’s voice rose in octaves as the pace grew rougher, slowing every time Yuma leaned in to kiss him but picking up quickly as he pounded into Shu, defiling him and making him beg for mercy, voice strained with sobs.

“Yuma — I’m close — ah, Yuma–”

Understanding immediately, Yuma pounded into him, hitting Shu’s bundle of nerves repeatedly until Shu collapsed before the need to orgasm, his cum released messily in short, hot spurts, splattering all over their stomachs. At the same time, Shu’s insides tightened considerably, making Yuma groan as he gave into the friction and released, filling Shu with warmth as he pulled out. Both of them panted, satiated and wasted, and Yuma burrowed his face into the crook of his prince — no, his lover’s neck.

“I love you.” He mumbled.

Shu just chuckled, tugging Yuma up. “Love you too. Come on. Let's go clean up.”

 

  
A few nights later, in the deadest hours of night, Shu and Yuma frolick in the garden, enjoying each other’s warmth underneath the stars. Everyone is asleep and the castle grounds are empty with the exception of a few sleep - deprived guards, and they revel in their privacy, unabashed in their affections and cuddling in the embrace of night.

In the shadows, Reiji looks away, scandalized. A royal garb drapes over his bandaged body battered days ago by the angered Yuma, and seeing him with the person he hates the most makes him seethe with hatred, his head turning to the tall man next to him.

“Father, those two are unsightly. Won't you do something about it?”

The figure emerges, and standing next to Reiji is the proud King Karlheinz, looking regal even in such a dark hour, silver tresses long and spilling from his scalp, golden eyes soft with fondness as he looks over at the couple.

“Come now. There is nothing unsightly about blossoming love.”

Reiji just scoffs and leaves, and Karlheinz chuckles, returning his gaze to Shu and his lover. Yuma notices the weight of the stare as he slowly drifts into sleep and glances at Karlheinz. In his last moments of lucidity, he is reminded of the stranger that handed him the diary and unlocked his memories, thus allowing him to understand and fall in love with Shu, and at last he gives in, head resting against the blonde’s with their hands still entwined.

The next morning, he forgets about his midnight epiphany as Shu smiles down at him, eyes sparkling with affection as he leads Yuma away, into another day together.


End file.
